


Therapy Session

by gamesharkcartridge



Category: Inanimate Insanity (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Depression, F/F, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mentioned Armless Alliance, Mentioned Team Bright Lights, Mentioned Team Grand Slams, Post-Episode: s02e11 Kick The Bucket Parts 1-2, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Short One Shot, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-04 03:17:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10982235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gamesharkcartridge/pseuds/gamesharkcartridge
Summary: When all is quiet at Hotel OJ, the truth comes out.Human AU.





	Therapy Session

“Alright everybody, lights out. Don’t want another light pollution complaint from the neighbors.” OJ jokes, his hands firmly planted on his hips. His mouth is curled up in a dorky, charismatic smile. From the bottom of the staircase, he looks so mighty. He is the king, his feet planted upon the carpet of the landing.

“Funny that the Bright Lights of all people are bothered by that.” Cheesy slaps his knee and winces for comedic effect. Nobody is laughing.

“Hey, come on! It wasn’t the worst one I’ve told.” 

Soap glares down at him from the banister. 

“Some of us are trying to sleep!”

“Yep, chop chop, people. I’ve got a big day of nothing to rest up for.” OJ chimes in before making his way up the second flight of stairs. Paper follows after him, his eyes heavy with fatigue but his bright smile still prominent. Nickel and Pickle finish up their last round of Superb Slash Brothers before seeing each other off. Bomb even tucks Box in before going to bed himself. 

The sun sets on yet another day. The clock flashes from 11:59 pm to 12:00 am, the date moves on forward. 

However, some weary eyes remain wide open.

Balloon paces the length of the hallway all night long. There is no light, there is nobody-- there is only him, and the sound of his footsteps against the carpet flooring. His restlessness eats away at him like a parasitic virus. If he had a dollar for every night that his mind was flooded with regrets, he could buy the entire hotel. 

Paper stares directly at the digital clock at his bedside. The bright red numbers burn themselves into his vision. With every change of the minute, he jolts. He is reminded of that feeling, the isolation and mania that once controlled him. It had been years ago and he thought he had finally gotten over it, but the memories still kept dragging him back into these states of paranoia. OJ rests beside him, comfortably asleep. He is still alone. The shadows obscure everything but his own two hands and the uncomfortable glare of the alarm clock. That piercing, familiar red dances around the room with every blink. 

Even Pepper has her troubles. She shrouds herself in positivity and molds herself into a stereotype to avoid them. She’s gotten pretty skilled at it, as most people in the hotel suspect that she’s the only sane one left. That group doesn’t include Salt, however. They may still be friends in each other’s hearts, but the bond they had before had snapped into a million little pieces, fragments that couldn’t be glued back together. Pepper loved Salt. Salt loved OJ. OJ loved Paper. These romantic tensions had made her life the mess that it is, but fate is fate, and she chooses to accept what life has thrown at her. Under it all, she just wants to have the love she puts in returned back to her.

As the early morning’s light begins to filter in through the windows, Balloon makes the trip downstairs to sleep on the couch. He stumbles down the stairs in a fatigued daze, his frail hand clutching onto the railing for dear life. Within his field of vision, he makes out a leg resting on the arm of the couch. The lack of sleep doesn’t help assure him that it’s not a hallucination. Gingerly, he makes his way down to the living room and adjusts the dimmer on the lights appropriately. The figure rustles in annoyance.

“H-Hello? ...Are you awake?” He whispers.  
“...Oh, uh, yeah. I come down here sometimes.” The person replies, pushing himself off the couch with a grunt and standing up to stretch.  
“Haha, me too. Hope this isn’t weird, but...could I join you?”  
“I guess. I didn’t think you’d ever want to hang out with me, of all people.” He chuckles.  
“You? I don’t even know who you are!” Balloon replies, his face flushing in annoyance.   
“Are you an amnesiac or something? It’s me, Pickle. Season 1?” 

It dawns on him.

“Ohh! I knew you sounded familiar.” He smiles, taking a seat on the couch.

Pickle doesn’t look very pleased, but when has he ever? He taps anxiously at the DS in his lap as Balloon observes. 

“You, uh, playing a game?”  
“...I think it’d be best if you just tell me what happened out there.”  
“W-What? What happened out where?”  
“We all watch what happens. We saw what went down with you and the alliance. Tell me about that.”  
“Oh, uh...that.” He blushes. “There’s not too much to say there. I took things too far, and in trying to prove myself, I messed it up for everybody else. It’s over now, though, I’m putting the competition behind me.”  
“...I know I haven’t exactly been the nicest to you, and the same goes for everyone else in the hotel, but if you need to talk, I’ll listen. I know what it’s like to lose the only person that cared for you.” Pickle sighs, glancing briefly at the broken picture frame on the mantle.  
"Thanks, Pickle. I talked to OJ and he said it'd be best for myself and everyone else to stop dwelling on the past and move on instead. I know it might be hard after knowing me last season, but would you maybe want to be...friends? I could help you out, and we can make things happier around here."  
"It has been kinda mopey lately, and what you did really was in the past and just because of the competition. I don't see why not."

Pickle reaches his hand out.

"Welcome to Hotel OJ."

Balloon shakes it firmly and laughs as he feels the familiar sensation of tears fall down his face.   
This time, it makes him feel good for a change.  
Everything is changing.

"Thank you."


End file.
